


The Weight Of Existence

by thenewnationalanthem (moxielovesshipping)



Series: I Want To Be With You [3]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cleaning, Flashbacks, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, Hypochondria, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Inspired by Stranger Things (TV 2016), Isolation, Living Together, M/M, Mutant Powers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sick Character, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Strangers, Superpowers, Telekinesis, Telepathy, Work Contains Fandom Elements, search party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-01-31 18:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12687642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxielovesshipping/pseuds/thenewnationalanthem
Summary: Richie Tozier has a gift.A gift that could destroy the world.





	1. Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> Richie is a sweetheart guys.

 

"He's a threat to society."

 

 

"He's not a threat at all! _Look_ at him, he's harmless."

 

 

"He can move things with his mind. Little things. Imagine if he learns how to move something bigger. He could hurt someone."

 

 

" _You're_ hurting him! If I'd know all you were gonna do is lock him away I'd have never brought him here."

 

 

"You're making a mistake, Mrs. Tozier."

 

 

She turns around, grabbing his collar and pointing an accusing finger. "You don't tell me what to do with _my_ son. Let. Him. Go."

 

 

He locks onto her, but nods subtly at his assistants, who enter his isolation room, fully cloaked in uniform.

 

 

The room is silent, until one of the assistants rushes back in, panting in fear.

 

 

"Well?"

 

 

"He's gone."

 

 

"What?"

 

* * *

 

 

Richie pants, holding onto his sleeves as he rushes down the street, never looking back.

 

 

His feet hit the ground, bare and dirty, but he won't stop until he's safe.

 

 

Visions of needles and medicines flash before his eyes, but he blinks them away, shaking his head while the rain beads on his skin.

 

 

He's not safe here.

 

 

He's not safe anywhere.

* * *

 

 

"Dammit. Late again." Eddie sighs, laying his head back against the bench.

 

 

Nothing like a long day of working hard and a late bus to _really_ make your job worthwhile. "Guess I'm walking."

 

 

He lets his umbrella back up, huffing and making his way down the busy streets of New York City.

 

 

"Excuse me! Sorry. Pardon me!" He mumbles, ignoring the rude looks all the other people give him on the sidewalks. The sound of cash slots and the smell of fresh rain clog his senses enough to dissociate, so he lets his soul float above his body and watch out for him.

 

 

Soon enough, he makes it to his street, with the rain letting up just enough for him to pull on his hoodie and put his umbrella down. "Fucking rain."

 

 

A few minutes later he's on the sidewalk to his home, waving at his neighbors who, after numerous fights with Myra, aren't too happy to see him. Nonetheless, they're nice to him because he decides whether or not the government pays for their kid's college.

 

 

He gets so caught up in his head that he steps in a puddle of mud, nearly screeching as it coats his shoe and leg. "WHY!"

 

 

"Shhhhh! People are trying to sleep!" Screams Mrs. Thompson, so Eddie waves shyly in apology. He stomps the rest of the way to his home, squealing when he drops his keys to the ground.

 

 

Finally, he's wiping his feet on the front porch and about to enter his door, when something tall and heavy knocked him to the ground.

 

 

He looked up, and panicked brown eyes were staring back at him.

 

 

This was a long, _long_ day.

 

* * *

 

 

Richie was panicking. He had no idea which way to go, as he's never been allowed on the streets before.

 

 

_He's too dangerous._

 

 

_A threat._

 

 

_Destruction._

 

 

_Evil._

 

 

His legs were giving out, and he found himself breathless as he rounded the corner to a long street of houses.

 

 

The lights were dim, but he could see well enough to make out the shiny doorknobs on each of the doors.

 

 

In the last few inches of his flight, he began looking side to side, choosing to run on the grass now because it found it was softer than the pavement, panicked they'd find him again and lock him up.

 

 

His body made contact with something solid, and gravity knocked him to the ground.

 

 

Terrified and breathless, he looks down into soft, caring eyes and smirks. "Hi."

 

 

"My _sweater!_ " He pouts, pushing Richie up, who flinches at the touch. He rolls off the man, who stands up and brushes himself off, raising an eyebrow. "Why are you running through my grass?"

 

 

Richie stands there in awe, taking in the features of the man. Light, fluffy, black hair, calm eyes, and plump lips that made Richie's body tingle.

 

 

He assesed the sweater he wore, mute and plain, to go with his starch white pants that were coated brown at the bottom.

 

 

He got so caught up that he didn't notice the man coming closer, flicking his face and startling him. "Hey!"

 

 

"Uh, Um--"

 

 

"What is your name?"

 

 

"R-Richie. My name, Richie."

 

 

"Well, _Richie,_ in case you didn't know, you're not supposed to run through people's yards."

 

 

"I--"

 

 

" _And_ you should watch where you're going. Are you even listening to me?"

 

 

"Gorgeous." He says, and he's only heard that word once, but he knows it applies to him.

 

 

The man raises an eyebrow, but the soft blush on his face betrays him. "What?"

 

 

"You. Gorgeous."

 

 

"Yeah. Well, you still helped ruin my sweater."

 

 

Richie looks down, tensing his body for impact. "Sorry."

 

 

Something about the man seems to soften, and he places a hand on Richie's shoulder, which makes Richie blush in return. "I guess it's fine. What happened to you, anyways?" Richie shrugs, which doesn't go over well with the guy, who examines him like a parasite. "Not much of a talker, I guess. Do need to use my phone to call a ride? Maybe...get a shower?"

 

 

"Yes. Thank you." Richie smiles, and the guy unlocks his front door to let him in, but he can feel his watchful eye behind him.

 

 

He knows what he's thinking, although Richie doesn't know him yet.

 

 

That he's dangerous.

 

 

Bad.

 

 

_Evil._

 


	2. Dirty Laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie's guest is more special than he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richie needs to be protected at all costs.

 

 

 

"Didn't you put like, a tracker chip in him when he arrived?"

 

 

 

 

"Our goal here, Mrs. Tozier, is to contain. He would never have been able to escape this facility with the proper protocol and guard. This is simply a glitch in the system. We will find him."

 

 

 

 

"And if you don't?" She begs, but The Doctor never looks her in the eye.

 

 

 

 

"We will. Branson, check the geolocator for anything unusual, like large masses of energy centered in one spot. Once we find him, we can neutralize him--"

 

 

 

 

"Neutralize?"

 

 

 

 

"He's a _danger,_ Mrs. Tozier, alright? To himself and others. We can't have him out and about like this."

 

 

 

 

"What if you find him and he's just...I don't know, being normal?"

 

 

 

 

The Doctor just glances at her and turns away, leaving her to hope for the best.

* * *

 

 

 

 

"Are you hungry?" Eddie asks, watching as his guest manages to put his grimy, disgusting hands on everything in his reach, which was pretty much everything in Eddie's home since he was a thousand feet tall.

 

 

 

 

"Do you have pasta?"

 

 

 

 

"Uh...I have spaghetti, I think?"

 

 

 

 

"Spaghetti will be fine," Richie smiles, placing things back down where they belong and stumbling lightly over to Eddie. "Gorgeous."

 

 

 

 

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

 

 

 

 

Richie shrugs, resting his palms softly on the counter as his eyes follow Eddie around the kitchen. "You are."

 

 

 

 

Eddie bats his eyes and gives a sly smile, turning towards the burner and stirring his pasta. "Where did you come from? And why were you so dirty?"

 

 

 

 

"I'm...special." Richie whispers, and Eddie stills a bit.

 

 

 

 

"Special, how?"

 

 

 

 

"Scared to show you."

 

 

 

 

"What?" Eddie questions, turning down the heat and spinning around towards him with an irritated look. "You can't just knock me to the ground and ruin my favorite sweater, then not even tell me why you were running in the first place."

 

 

 

 

"I'll get caught. They'll take me back."

 

 

 

 

"Who?"

 

 

 

 

"The Doctor." He sighs, and his hands are holding onto the counter as tight as he can, tapping his fingers idly.

 

 

 

 

"So...you're sick?" He asks, backing up and covering his mouth, and Richie thinks its so cute, so he smirks.

 

 

 

 

"Kind of. Not contagious."

 

 

 

 

"Are you _sure?_ " Richie nods. "Hm."

 

 

 

 

"Pasta?"

 

 

 

 

"Oh! Right. Do you want sauce?"

 

 

 

 

Richie shakes his head and grabs at him like a child, so Eddie pours the pasta into a bowl and gives him a fork, sitting across from him. Richie shoves the food in his mouth like a monster, and Eddie is a bit terrified.

 

 

 

 

"O...kay."

 

 

 

 

When he's satiated, he swallows and smiles, wiping his mouth as he hair falls over his glasses. "What are you?"

 

 

 

 

"Um...human?"

 

 

 

 

"No power?"

 

 

 

 

"Power?"

 

 

 

 

In his confusion, Richie tilts his head to the side, laying his fork down on the table. "Mind power."

 

 

 

 

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. "I don't get it." Richie focuses on his fork, mind throbbing with the effects of his powers. "What are you--"

 

 

 

 

"Ssssh. Power." He smiles, and then the fork is floating in thin air, and Eddie is backing away.

 

 

 

 

"Holy shit, how are you doing that???"

 

 

 

 

"Ssssh! Secret." He whispers, letting the fork drop back down the the table with a clatter.

 

 

 

 

"What _are_ you?"

 

 

 

 

Richie stands up, shaking his head as he reaches out to touch Eddie, who flinches away. "Evil."

 

 

 

 

"I-I...no. No you don't _look_ evil. Are you evil?"

 

 

 

 

Richie shrugs, wincing as he rubs his temple. "I don't know."

 

 

 

 

"Well," Eddie decides, pulling all his silverware from the drawers of his kitchen and throwing them on the table in no particular order. "Let's test it and find out."

 

 

 

 

Richie looks down at them in fear, then back into soft brown eyes, and smiles. "Test."

 


	3. Sea of Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie wants to see just how powerful Richie is, and Richie makes a mistake.

"So," Eddie sighs, laying out all of the knives, forks, and spoons he owns on the counter with a nervous blush, looking into Richie's eyes with some sort of question that goes left unsaid. "You can...move shit, right?"

 

"Telekinetic."

 

"Right, Telekinetic. So, I want you to try to move all of these. If you can't, you're not dangerous at all."

 

"And if I can?" Richie wonders, and Eddie chuckles shyly, averting his gaze to the counter top. 

 

"Then...then I'm a little scared. But I won't turn you in! To...whoever it is that you're running from. Even if you ruined my sweater."

 

Richie grins, skin glowing red while he looks off to the side. "Thank you, gorgeous."

 

"Stop calling me that. Now, what do you need to do to...work your magic?"

 

"Not...magic. Mind power."

 

"Okay then, mind power. Do I need to do anything special?"

 

Richie shakes his hand then waves Eddie away, worried he'd hurt him if he got too close. "Move."

 

"Oh,um, yeah that'd be a great idea!" Eddie laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, wondering when the hell he got so nervous around strangers who got him dirty.

 

Richie focuses, channeling all of his energy on the task at hand.

 

In his mind, he thinks about all the things they did to him.

 

The things his mother let them do to him.

 

The  _horrible, terrible_ things.

 

**_"Stay still!"_ **

 

_"Richie, everything will be fine. Just let him stick you."_

 

_"No! Let me go! I d-don't want to go with him!"_

 

_He fights, snatches, scratches and claws, but there are so  many white hands holding him down that he know's he's losing._

 

_**"Get me a sedative."**   
_

 

_"Richie, please--"_

 

_"No! Mommy, please! Help, please!"_

 

_He screams, but he can't see her, she's gone._

 

_She left him._

 

_The tears start pouring from his eyes, and he sobs violently when he feels a sharp sting in his neck._

 

_The room gets blurry, and his limbs are heavy._

 

_He has lost._

 

_Everything._

 

_When he wakes up, he's tied down, and the light is too bright for his childish eyes._

 

_He groans, tugging at his restraints, panting in fear, but nothing is working._

 

_"Let me out! Please...please...Please!"_

 

"Hey...are you okay?" Eddie asks, and he reaches out to touch Richie, but then the cutlery begins floating, circling them with no proper trajectory, and he's backing away again. "Richie?"

 

"Please..." He mutters, and his eyes are still closed but moving rapidly, and his arms are flailing, but he seems restrained. "mommy..."

 

"Richie. Richie wake up!"

 

"LET ME GO!" He screams, and the echo is deafening, but Eddie is focused on taking cover under his counter as knives and forks alike break plates, glass, and window, shattering them into the mess they've made.

 

Eddie squeals, slamming his palms over his ears while Richie screams out his frustrations in a furious frenzy. "Stop!!!!"

 

But Richie is too far gone, and he's drowning, in a sea of strangers he's never known before. 

 

He's run out of ammo. He's out of power. He's collapsing.

 

His palms hit the ground with a smack, and he pants, face stained with tears. He opens them, glancing around in confusion. Where was he?

 

That's when he heard it. The soft sobbing, quiet and gorgeous.

 

Eddie.

 

He rounds the counter, trying his best to console the man, but he flinches away, and Richie winces. 

 

He looks at his hands, disgusting by the blackish tint in his veins, and nearly vomits. "Evil."

 

He glances down at Eddie, who's slowly gathering his breath again, head leaned against the wood. Even when he's terrified, he's perfect.

 

Richie didn't know him, and he didn't know Richie.

 

He should have never came here. 

 

"I'm...s-sorry..."

 

"It's okay...just...I need some space." Eddie decides, so Richie moves out of the way and lets him get up and go out the front door, and Richie just stares.

 

He takes measured steps towards the door, and places his palms flat on it, then leans forward.

 

He closes his eyes, and slides down the door, silent sobs escaping his voice, trapped in his own destruction for eternity.

 

He realized in that moment that it wasn't he past that he hated.

 

Out of everyone, he hated himself the most.

 

 


	4. Absence Of The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie sits down with Richie and tries to understand his powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter because i won't be updating anymore this week...this is going to be very slow to update and im sorry if that disappoints you :/

After a few breaths of fresh air, Eddie collects his thoughts before going to open his door.

 

Of course, he expected Richie to be lying, because why wouldn't he?

 

People having superpowers wasn't exactly unheard of, but...highly unlikely.

 

Highly unlikely.

 

He scoffs at that thought, hand nearly slipping off the knob in his nervousness.

 

"Richie?" He calls out, and his heart nearly drops when he sees him. Eyes red and puffy, hair a mess, staring blankly at the static on the tv screen. "Hey."

 

"Evil." Is all he rebuts, and Eddie sighs, because what if he was?

 

What if this was all a fascade, and he could really speak in full sentences and had a grip on his powers?

 

What if he was happy with who he was?

 

What if Eddie was jumping to conclusions?

 

What if...Richie really was a helpless, abused soul, who was begging for help the only way he knew?

 

If Eddie ignored that...then he was just as evil as Richie thought he was.

 

If Eddie ignored that...he was just like Myra.

 

"I--I don't think you're evil."

 

"Hm. You run away from me, you think I'm evil."

 

Eddie plops down on the chair next to the couch, keeping his distance. "I was scared. I'm not very good with dealing with new situations." He laughs, but Richie is unmoved, still staring at the static. "What are you staring at?"

 

He shrugs, blinking carefully and turning towards Eddie. "Nothing. I'm sorry I came."

 

"Don't be!" He gasps, and Richie raises an eyebrow at his outburst.

 

Why was he having an outburst?

 

Get it together Eddie, you're a grown man.

 

He straightens his shirt, clearing his throat and looking away from Richie. "I mean, I'm not going back on my promise."

 

"What promise?"

 

"That I wouldn't turn you in. I'm not going to do that. I--I wanna help you, but, I don't know anything about you."

 

"Past?"

 

"Yes, your past. Are you...okay with telling me about it?"

 

Richie shifts uncomfortably in his seat, tampering with a bracelet Eddie just realized is on his wrist. 

 

"What is that?"

 

Richie looks down at it and winces, sniffling. "Medicine."

 

"A medical bracelet? Do you have an illness or something?"

 

"Sick. Very sick."

 

"Is that why you have...powers?"

 

Richie nods and looks away, and Eddie can somehow feel his despair, so a part of him reaches out and touches his arm comfortingly, causing him to turn back with shining blue eyes. 

 

"I don't want to hurt you, gorgeous."

 

"You won't. We will..." He worries his lips, eyes darting from side to side, "We will work it out. For now...sleep?"

 

Richie chuckles, shaking his head and placing a hand on top of Eddie's and they both blush, then pull away. "Sure. Sleep."

 

"Good. We can talk tomorrow. You look tired."

 

"Very." Richie smiles, and for some reason, Eddie smiles too.

 

He guesses it's just sympathy.

 

Yeah, sympathy.


	5. Into It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie's inner thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm feeling a bit poetic and i haven't updated this in 525600 years.

He sits alone and wonders why things are the way they are.

 

He never asked to be born.

 

He never asked to be dragged away.

 

He never asked for these terrible powers that plagued his life.

 

Today he nearly killed someone. He nearly killed Eddie.

 

Maybe he should just go back and let them lock him up again.

 

He sighs to himself, hugging his knees as he shudders in the bathroom, naked in the tub while hot water runs on his skin.

 

No matter how many showers he takes, he will always feel dirty.

 

He will always feel used.

 

He will always feel wrong and tainted.

 

He leans his head back on the tiles, and accidentally hits it.

 

It feels nicer than anything he's ever felt.

 

He gasps out a cry and does it again.

 

He's just so  _frustrated._

 

He cries and cries, and slams his head, until it feels...weird.

 

He looks down at his water, swirling his hand in it lightly. 

 

He sighs when he notices a red tint to it. 

 

He shakes a bit, pressing his opposite palm to the back of his head, wincing at the pain.

 

He deserved this.

 

He deserved nothing but the pain he's felt his entire life.

 

He gets so lost in his head, he can't even hear a gorgeous voice calling his name, begging for his reply, and the water still beats down on his face.

 

The bleeding gets worse, so he hits his head again and shudders, and he hugs his knees closer as his past unravels before his eyes.

 

His eyes, in his present, are glued to the wall in front of him, and the water still jets and shoots around him, he doesn't even notice that it's gone cold.

 

"Richie? Richie!"

 

He can feel someone shaking him, so he blinks, and all the world he's known fades away.

 

"Richie! Can you hear me? Ugh, you're bleeding in my tub!!"

 

He turns to the side slightly, shaking his head as much as he can as he hears the knobs squeaking and turning.

 

The water stops. 

 

His mind stops.

 

His eyes follow Eddie around the room, and he's not even phased his new roommate is seeing him naked.

 

"Richie!"

 

"S-sorry." He mumbles, and Eddie's brown eyes look frantic and...worried?

 

Worry.

 

He's never seen that emotion before.

 

"What the hell is wrong with you???"

 

"I-I-"

 

" _You scared me._ "

 

Richie looks at him, and he realizes something fundamental and true in that moment.

 

That he could get lost in Eddie's eyes quicker than he could get lost in his own mind.

 

"What?"

 

"You look like a freaking prune. God, I'm going to have to get more bleach to clean up this freaking blood. Dammit, Richie get up!"

 

Despite his pain, and his thoughts, Richie smiles and takes Eddie's hands, chuckling as Eddie's face blushes red and he spins around to face the wall. "What's wrong?"

 

"Ah, um, not used to seeing other, um, guys naked. I-I'm gonna go get some supplies." He huffs out, crossing his arms in his sleep clothes, and Richie watches him walk away in hopes he will never see him disappear again.


	6. Feels Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie shows Eddie other parts of his powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad shit inbound.

Once he'd gotten Richie all patched up, he rubbed his eyes groggily and crossed his legs on his bed, trying to focus.

 

He could feel the unease in the air, even at 2am, so he tried to make himself as unauthoratative as he possibly could.

 

"Why?"

 

Richie shrugs, and it irritates Eddie that he shows no signs of exhaustion.

 

"If you're going to live here with me, you can't keep secrets, Richie."

 

He hands his head low, tapping his leg. "Sorry, gorgeous."

 

Eddie sighs, and he curses himself that that even affects him. He hates that he gets attatched so easily.

 

"I just...I need you to be honest with me. I can't help you if I can't understand what's going on."

 

When Richie just sits there in silence, he decides he'd give up, that is, until he holds out his hands as an offering. "Hold them. I'll show you."

 

"Show me what?"

 

"Why."

 

"Oh. Do i need my ke--"

 

"Just hold them." He says stoicly, so Eddie flinches but obliges, and Richie's pupils dilate as he does so. A small smile plays on his face as he runs his thumbs over Eddie's hands and he chuckles. "Soft. Dainty."

 

"I'm not dainty!" He gasps, trying to pull away, but Richie keeps a vice grip on him, so he just pouts.

 

"You have to stay still."

 

"Well stop insulting me, then."

 

"Okay. Don't be scared." He says, nearly a whisper, and it feels like daggers into Eddie's heart.

 

"You, you aren't going to make shit float are you?"

 

Richie just shakes his head and stares, palms face to face with Eddie's and Eddie feels a bit...displaced. "Come with me."

 

And then the world around them begins to dissolve.

 

The walls turn from beige to white, from plaster to tile, and the room is cold.

 

Eddie looks around to see wires and tubes hooked up to huge machines he's never seen before.

 

Most importantly, he looks to his right to see Richie standing next to him, seemingly frozen in his spot. He taps his head with his free hand and he jumps, terrifying Eddie. "Jesus!"

 

"Sssh...they'll hear you."

 

"They...who?"

 

"The doctors." He whispers, then he pulls Eddie along down the corridor, as if he knows exactly where he's going.

 

He can hear the around of wheels rolling, machines whirring, and typing in the rooms. Some of the rooms, though, have jail cell doors on them, and little name plates with numbers.

 

A series of seven numbers, in no particular order to the normal human eye, all together as if they belong there naturally. Still, Richie doesn't glance at them, he just keeps walking.

 

"Where are we?"

 

"My home."

 

Eddie raises an eyebrow at that, confused as to why Richie was being so...broody.

 

"Was your father a scientist or something?"

 

"No."

 

"Then how was this your--"

 

He shushes him, and Eddie feels a little offended, until they approach a large glass box with a tarp over it. Richie stills, and his eyes looks red as if he'd been crying the whole way here. He lets go of Eddie's hand and pulls away the tarp, and Eddie can't believe his eyes.

 

A young boy with dark black hair sits on a table, naked and shaking, arms covered in IV's and wires, alone. Eddie presses his body against the glass to get a better look, but the boy doesn't seem affected.

 

However, when Richie presses a hand to the glass, the boys eyes shoot open and he stares straight at them as his eyes starts leaking black.

 

Eddie backs away, but the boy stumbles off the table he's rested on, mumbling something that Eddie can't hear.

 

He's tall, but frail, and his vision seems futile as he tries to feel his way around.

 

Steadily, he makes his way closer to them, and Richie remains unmoving.

 

Finally, they're palm to palm at the window, and Richie smiles at the boy, who glances back at him with a terrified look, whispering again.

 

" _Please help me._ "

 

Richie drops his hand and his head, resting his forehead on the glass as Eddie watches what happens next.

 

Two men in hazard suits grab the boy by the arms and violently drag him as he screams at them.

 

He begs for their help, but Eddie isn't sure what to do. He looks to Richie, who only stares, so he decides to bang on the glass.

 

"Hey. Hey! Let him go! You can't do that! HEEEY!!"

 

Richie snatches his arm and shushes him. "They can hear you."

 

An alarm begins blaring, and the halls flash red as panic reaches Richie's eyes. He grabs onto Eddie's hand again as they hear footsteps approaching.

 

Eddie goes to turn around, but before he can, it's gone.

 

He's gasping, and Richie's eye is leaking onto his sheets. He wipes his calmly, and Eddie just stares at him in confusion.

 

"What _was_ that?" He begs, and Richie only shrugs.

 

"You asked me to tell you why."

 

"Wh--" and that's when it hit him, like a bus.

 

Those scared, blue eyes, the messy hair.

 

He'd seen it all before.

 

"Was that little boy--"

 

"Me." He says, trembling, and Eddie has no idea what comes over him, but he pulls Richie into a hug, and he never wants to let go.


	7. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie can hear things Eddie can't, but he knows he's safe here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhaaaa so I took 10 chapters off of this because...I'm losing speed for it. Sorry :/

Richie was comfortable in Eddie's arms.

 

So comfortable that he falls asleep, head buried against a soft, fuzzy t shirt.

 

Sometime during the night, somewhere in his dreams, he hears a noise.

 

Something akin to creaking or footsteps, and his eyes refuse to open.

 

Actually, his entire body was still.

 

He couldn't move.

 

_"Richie...Richie honey, come home."_

 

Was that...his mother?

 

He tries to wiggle, blink, open his eyes at all, but he's paralyzed.

 

It's almost like he's strapped down.

 

Strapped down.

 

He's strapped down.

 

_"Mommy please!"_

 

_"Richie honey, you can't come home."_

 

_"Please!"_

 

_"You can't come home. You can't come home. Youcantcomehomeyoucantcomehomeyoucantcomehomeyoucant--"_

 

_"Stay still!"_

 

_"Mommy!"_

 

_"This won't hurt a bit, Richard."_

 

_"Please!"_

 

_"Richie, honey!"_

 

_"Please..."_

 

He fights and wiggles, and he sees the needle pointing his way.

 

He doesn't want another injection.

 

He doesn't want to be here.

 

Where's Eddie?

 

Eddie can't help.

 

Eddie can't save him.

 

_"Please!"_

 

_"Richie!"_

 

_"Stay still."_

 

_"Please..."_

 

_"Honey..."_

 

_"Stay. Still."_

 

He's gasping and panting, but the needle gets closer and closer until it pierces his skin, and it  _burns._

 

It  _itches._

 

His arms are finally weightless, and he scratches them, violently.

 

He doesn't care that they're bleeding, he's  _screaming_ because it  _hurts._

 

Everyone watches him behind glass, laughing and pointing at him because he's not worth it.

 

There's blood everywhere, and his fingers are embedded in his arm, and for some reason, he laughs too.

 

He chuckles, and he continues to dig into his arm, tearing his flesh and skin and his laughter gets louder.

 

They laugh along with him still, and he finally looks up to them, and there he is.

 

Innocent brown eyes welled with tears, hair fluffy and light, body posed with defeat.

 

" _Please..."_

 

Eddie says, and then Richie's eyes are opening, and they try their best to settle in the darkness. He pulls the string on the light next to him and breathes, then turns around to see Eddie's worried eyes staring back at him.

 

"Are you ever going to let me sleep?"

 

He coughs a bit, and Eddie pats his back to soothe him. 

 

"I guess this means you won't be sleeping alone, then."

 

Richie wants to respond with a snarky remark, but he can't find it in him.

 

It was all a dream?

 

It wasn't...real.

 

None of it is.

 

Or maybe it was...but this was the dream.

 

Then how did Eddie get here?

 

"Listen to me, okay? I'm going to get you some tea. Can you hear me? Nod if you can."

 

Richie nods.

 

He just leans over the side of the bed as a wave of nausea hits him, he feels the bed get lighter, and Eddie's feet hitting the floor.

 

It seems like an eternity until he returns, and he's standing in front of Richie with a mug. "You better not throw up on my floor. You already fucked up my sweater and bled in my tub."

 

Despite his tough demeanor, he hands Richie the mug, and he takes it happily, drinking quickly. He winces as his tongue burns, and Eddie stifles a laugh. "Hot!"

 

"Yeah you doofus, it is. How are you feeling?" Eddie asks as Richie sits his mug on the nightstand and elevates himself.

 

"Fine. Thank you."

 

"Do you...want to talk about it?"

 

He looks at the clock, 6am.

 

He could wait.

 

He's woken Eddie up way too much.

 

So he shakes his head and makes grabby hands for Eddie.

 

Eddie sighs fondly, slipping back into the bed, squealing in surprise when Richie wraps his arms around his waist and snuggles his face into his neck. "Goodnight gorgeous."

 

"Stop calling me that."

 

"Okay." Richie says, but Eddie knows he doesn't mean it, so he just stares at the wall until he hears light snoring, wondering what other awful things Richie had been through.

 

Despite feeling bad for him, Eddie needed to set rules and boundaries.

 

And he definitely needed to find some help for Richie.

 

 


	8. Luck of the Draw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're getting closer and closer to finding him, but can they do it in time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richie's condition is getting a little better...with the help of Eddie!

"Have you had any luck?"

 

"We've pinpointed his location, and he's been stationary there for nearly a week. We assume someone is assisting him in hiding, but they're unaware of the threat he poses."

 

"You keep saying that."

 

"Which part?"

 

"That he's a threat, but you can't show me what he's capable of. You've always said, he's a threat, but he's not done anything but sit here in that damned box and suffer."

 

The Doctor places his hands behind his back and examines her, back still straight and pristine. "Let's not forget, Mrs. Tozier, you are the one who brought him to me, willingly. I will not take full blame for any issues he may be having."

 

"He's probably insane by now...he may be cold...he may be...oh god..." She whispers to herself, covering her mouth with her hand. 

 

"If he is dead, then that will be one less liability for this world."

 

"Is that all you see him as??? Some big, bad threat??? He's a  _child,_ Lawrence, have a heart!"

 

"I have been patient with him for 19 years now. He hasn't improved, though I will admit it hasn't gotten worse." He raises his eyebrow and turns back to his computer, beckoning her to come closer. "May I show you something?"

 

She steps towards him cautiously, watching as blips and lines pop up on the screen. "What is this?"

 

"These are the pulses that are coming from your son. Each blip represents a possible point of destruction for Richard, and the lines are the strength of his powers as he uses them."

 

"He's been using his powers?"

 

"He can't help it. Inherent evil."

 

"My son isn't evil."

 

"So you think. Anyways, we use these blips and lines to pinpoint their origin, which helps us locate the person responsible. The more he discovers about himself, the more out of control he will get." He turns to her, a free hand in his pocket in case she becomes too much to handle. He knew just how to subdue patients. "We have two choices: we can let him continue to live in the normal world, causing the impending destruction of the planet, or we can ambush him and bring him back here to safety. Your choice."

 

She glances at the screen as more blips and lines pop up on the screen, all in the same area, and she worries for him.

 

She never meant for this to happen.

 

She never wanted him to feel prisoner.

 

She thought...she thought they could help her son. Turns out, there was nothing wrong with him to begin with.

 

Richie was smart, she'd taught him better than this.

 

"Will he get worse?"

 

"That all depends on his surroundings. With proper hydration and nutrition, he will gain enough strength to be independent. That will be when the issue begins."

 

"H-How long do you think--"  
  


  
We don't have to stall, Mrs. Tozier. I would suggest you and your husband discuss matters quickly, and get back to me as soon as possible. Think about the greater good, not the good and great."

* * *

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Eddie wonders, glaring as Richie pushes food around his plate.

 

He was usually starving, but he guessed that cooking everyday was starting to fill him up.

 

"I have to go to work today, y'know. Make rent."

 

"Work?"

 

"Yeah, like a place I go to earn money." Eddie smiles, and Richie smiles back, though his eyes are still dull and blank. "Is there, um, anything you need from the store? Clothes? Food?"

 

"Why are you being nice to me?"

 

"What--"

 

"I ruined your sweater. Bled in your tub. Woke you up. Why?"

 

Eddie sighs and shrugs, because honestly he has no idea.

 

To be fair, Richie had grown on him rapidly in the week he'd been there, and he found himself being concerned for his well being.

 

He still feared him a little, though, but not as much as the first day.

 

"Eddie?"

 

"Oh, sorry. It's just...empathy I guess."

 

He guesses. He scoffs.

 

"Yeah, empathy. You deserve so much more than you're getting, I mean you're not a  _terrible_ person. You're actually kind of nice, and sweet, and funny, and--" Eddie stops himself and blushes deep, fork clattering to his plate as he looks up to find Richie smiling down. "I mean, I like having company, I guess." He grumbles, and he thinks Richie mumbles something akin to 'okay gorgeous', and nothing else is said between them.

 

Eddie learned in that moment, that not speaking to Richie made him learn even more than saying anything to him.

 

He finally finished off his plate, and he washed up dishes (properly) while Eddie got ready for work.

 

There was something awfully domestic about them, but Eddie wouldn't point it out.

 

Richie just smiled to himself, scrubbing plates as a few words swirl in his head.

 

_Nice._

 

_Kind._

 

_Sweet._

 

_Funny._

 

All the things that Richie had always been taught he was not.

 

But if Eddie thought it...then maybe it was true.

 


	9. I Don't Want To Be With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie wants to explore something he's been feeling lately, but the doctor has other plans for him.

Richie was nervous, very nervous.

 

For days now, he'd been studying Eddie's behavior, hour by hour, waiting for the perfect timing to do this.

 

First, he'd had to figure out exactly what  _it_ was.

 

Apparently, people call it  _love._

 

He'd never felt that before.

 

The unbridled condition, through thick and thin, of true love.

 

He knew he'd felt something towards Eddie though, something that wasn't negative.

 

He needed to tell Eddie that.

 

Which is exactly why he followed him to work.

 

Sure, it wasn't the best of ideas, but Richie could make it work, even if he needed to use his powers to keep himself a secret.

 

Wait.

 

He was young enough to blend in, so did he need to keep himself a secret?

 

Probably so.

 

He didn't really know how school's worked.

 

So he crept ever so quietly through the halls, making sure to keep his distance from everyone else.

* * *

They weren't sure how much anger and hostility had built up into Richie over the years, so they considered him basically armed and dangerous, sneaking around the property they believed he was hiding at.

 

"Is this really necessary?" His mother begs, and the doctor doesn't even look at her to speak.

 

"Richard Tozier is a threat to society. He has now had a taste of freedom, and he will most likely do anything to maintain that freedom. Let's just hope he hasn't gotten attached to anyone in the free world."

 

"Why?"

 

"They'll most likely see us as the enemy and try to defend him. We don't want to hurt anyone who is innocent."

 

She shakes her head and sighs. "Most likely. You keep saying that. Do you even know what you're doing?"

 

"Mrs. Tozier, with all due respect, I have do what is best for your son for 20 years now. Why now are you arguing with me?"

 

"Because I made a mistake! God, my conscience is...is drowning in it's own sins."

 

"We don't have time for conscience in this time."

 

"So what happens if he refuses to come with us?"

 

"We will take him. By force."

 

"And if that doesn't work?" She whispers, and she can see him flinch.

 

Nice to see he still has some feelings.

 

"Mrs. Tozier, I assure you, we will reprimand the situation." Is all he says, then he opens his car door and stands into the wind, leaving her to deal with her vices alone.

 

Alone.

 

That must be a feeling her son has gotten used to.

* * *

"Hey!" Comes an unfamiliar voice, and Richie turns to face them with a shy smile. "Don't you have a class--" He starts, but then he looks Richie up and down in amusement. "Or practice to go to?"

 

"Practice?" He wonders, and the man chuckles.

 

"Like basketball practice? Because you're tall?"

 

Richie stares at him blankly, so the man clears his throat.

 

"Anyways, do you have a hall pass?"

 

"No. I'm here to see Edward Kaspbrak."

 

"Oh, are you his...son?"

 

"No."

 

"Brother?"

 

"No."

 

"Nephew?"

 

"...No."

 

"Then who are you?"

 

"Richie," He introduces, extending his hand with a more confident grin. "Richie Tozier."

 

The man shakes his hand, but his expression is confused now. "I mean, why are you here to see Dr. Kaspbrak?"

 

"Doctor?" Richie whispers, mostly to himself, but his thoughts are interrupted by the school bell ringing, and something about that...unsettles him. He snatches his hand away and clasps them both over his ears in an attempt to block them out.

 

"Are you okay?" The voice comes, but he just shakes his head and stumbles away, his ears still ringing with the shrill sound. "Son?"

 

He falls to the ground, because now his head is swimming with missing pieces and unfamiliar noises.

 

The bell rings over and over, and his body jumps each time. 

 

He can't remember why, but his skin burns each time he hears it, and his hear races fast.

 

"...Chie!" He believes he hears, but he can't uncover his ears because that ringing won't stop.

 

_"Turn it up."_

 

_Zap._

 

_"Higher."_

 

_"Please!"_

 

_Zap._

 

_Zap._

 

_Zap._

 

_"STOP! PLEASE!"_

 

_Zap._

 

_Zap._

 

_His body convulses on the table, and his arms are restrained._

 

_His eyes roll back in his head, and he can hear her calling his name._

 

_"Richie! Richie! God, please! Richie!"_

 

"Richie!" Eddie screams at him, but he just whimpers and shakes on the ground, so he turns back to his boss, eyes wild. "What the hell did you do??"

* * *

 

"Richie!" The doctor calls out, slamming his hands on the door, panting when it doesn't open.

 

He nods to his minions, then points to the door and backs away as they burn it to the ground. 

 

He steps over the ashes, and the lights are out.

 

The home is empty.

 

That can't be right.

 

"Richie?" He says, but noone answers. "Dammit!" He screams, snatching open every closet and doorway he can find. 

 

His minions follows suit, and he's at a loss.

 

Where could he be?

 

Just as he leaves, he picks up a photo of a short man, brunette hair with small, brown eyes.

 

A smile spreads on his face as he chuckles at it.

 

Poor, poor Richie.

 

He throws the portrait at one of his minions, fixing his lab coat. "Find him."

 

"Yes sir." One of them says, and he shakes off his shoes when he exits.

 

He was getting sick of playing chase.

 

It was time to play roulette.

 

 

 


End file.
